


Remembrance

by storminormin



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: 2d Bendy AU, Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, henry just needs a break tbh, not sure, shinyzango's 2d bendy au has me in shambles, some searchers get smashed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 13:33:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11149467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storminormin/pseuds/storminormin
Summary: Sometimes Henry remembers things after his job at the studio. But not good things....And definitely not at a good time.





	Remembrance

  It was the biggest room either of them had seen in the studio.

  Henry stood in the doorway and looked down the steps into the flooded area, his movements echoing off the high vaulted ceiling.

  “Be careful Henry.” Bendy warned as the animator stepped down into the ink. The evil looking liquid came up to his calves, and the thick ripples spread throughout the room. They both watched as the far side of the room bubbled in the slightest, then settled and looked like a perfectly inanimate giant ink puddle. Henry briefly reflected on his life choices that led to that being a valid sentence.

  It was definitely a trap. Animator and cartoon silently nodded to each other and Henry dropped Bendy into the black waves. His monstrous form rose, towering over Henry easily as he stood at his full height, unhindered by the usual low ceilings. _Guess the regular halls of the studio were just not built for giant ink creatures_ Henry mused. Bendy stretched like a giant cat, flexing his arms in front of him and arching his back to a series of cartoony pops.

  “Are you done?“ Henry teased.

  Bendy grinned widely and gave him a thumbs up.

  Whoever was behind the trap decided that subtlety wasn‘t going to work, and hordes of searchers simultaneously burst from under the ink and slid towards the pair. Henry hefted his axe and Bendy rolled his shoulders in anticipation.

  He roared and swung out into the fray taking the first wave out with ease. Henry’s axe was accurate and deadly, slicing through each globular creature in a thunking rhythm.  

  The searchers had been getting more aggressive and attentive, the trap itself showed that. The last group they had run into had actually tried to separate them and take them out one at a time, Bendy hadn’t stood for any of that however, and had quickly liquefied them and sent them back to wherever they came.

  In the corner of his eye he noticed two searchers trying to sneak behind Henry. He slammed them both flat against the wall with a massive hand, causing the studio to shudder and the lights to flicker ominously. A solitary board came loose from the high ceiling and fell straight down onto a dry section of the floor, hitting with a sharp CRACK that caused even the searchers to lift their dripping heads as it echoed in the large room. But Henry…

  Henry snapped around like he’d been slapped, eyes straining to find the source of the sound. He stumbled in the ink and fell, and the searchers locked their eyeless faces onto him hungrily.

  “ **HEN RY!** ” Bendy roared as he obliterated the entire searcher population on the west side of the room with a single swing of his fist. Henry was on his hands and knees, elbow deep in ink, breathing hard and staring at something far away, oblivious to the searchers that scratched and clawed their way towards him.

  Bendy slammed his hand down as close to Henry as he dared, scattering searchers in a wave of ink that was almost comical as they flailed about, trying to regain their balance and dignity. Henry was knocked against his other arm by the wave, and he let out a strangled yell, kicking out hard at Bendy’s arm. That did nothing except bounce the animator back. Henry couldn’t have hurt him even if he wanted to, but Bendy reeled from the attack in surprise. He pulled away from him as Henry scrambled backwards, watching him warily. Something was wrong. Henry’s chest heaved, pulling in large lungfuls of air like he sometimes did after a long fight, and he was shaking so badly that he could hardly keep himself from sprawling backwards into the ink. Bendy reached forward hesitantly.

  Henry’s eyes locked onto the hand immediately, body stiffening like a string pulled taut, causing Bendy to pause. The intense gaze wavered between his hand and his face, looking for something, waiting for him to make a move. Bendy slowly reached forward to gently pat the ink stained animator. Henry pulled away from the touch at first, like he anticipated pain from the gesture, then took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, leaning into the contact.  

  “ **S’ME… BENDY** ” The toon said as quietly as he could, attempting a soothing tone, but coming out as more of a faraway subway train rumble. Henry glanced up at him from under the inky hand, looking uncertain.

  It wasn’t right seeing Henry like this, it was like looking in a mirror and seeing a totally different person in the reflection. This was a part of Henry he’d never seen, or hadn’t been shown. Had Henry been hiding this from him this whole time? The thought that Henry could have frozen up at any time during their frequent fights only intensified his worry.

  He whined, looking around like he could get help from the surrounding walls, then surged forward and aggressively swatted away the regrouping searchers that dared try to go after Henry‘s exposed back. They moaned irritably as they were flung away, and Bendy growled dangerously at them. He looked down at Henry’s wide eyes, inches from his own at how low he was crouched over him.

  Henry had always managed to talk him out of his rages, but talking wasn’t an option with how hard it was for him to speak in this form, not to mention that his voice was probably the least soothing thing in the studio. He didn’t dare go back to his page with Henry unarmed and acting like this. So he did the only thing he could think of at the moment.

  He dipped his head the last few inches, and gently bumped heads with his friend.

  Henry gasped lightly, but Bendy just squeezed his eyes shut and kept their heads close. When he felt Henry reciprocate the gesture, the small human taking the sides of Bendy’s head in his hands and just holding onto him, Bendy had never felt so relieved. He stood, ignoring Henry’s yelp as he scooped the old animator out of the ink, and rushed for the end of the room, bowling the searchers over a third time. He was positive he heard annoyed groans coming from them as they sulked back into the ink.

  He didn’t even bother with the door, instead he curled himself around Henry rammed it, splintering it on contact, his only thought being getting Henry far away from any danger so he could figure out what was wrong. They spilled into the hallway, sloshing ink everywhere, Bendy still holding Henry protectively. He found the driest room he could that still had a door and shut it behind them. He leaned heavily against it and listened for any sounds of pursuit, but the only thing he heard was the sound of his own ink and the Henry’s breathing below him.

  Henry didn’t make any move to stand but was very still, and Bendy glanced down at him, concerned.

  Henry was curled up tight against him, his head buried into his chest, not minding the ink dripping everywhere. He shivered every once and a while, his breathing steadying out as they sat for what seemed like a silent eternity for Bendy.

  Bendy was staring anxiously down at him when Henry finally stirred and looked up at him.

  “Thanks bud, I owe you.”

  Bendy rumbled low in his throat, “ **YOu…O KAY?** ” he asked.

 “Yeah, I’m okay… I just…“ He looked down to Bendy’s bowtie, not sure if he wanted to fully explain what PTSD was to the toon just yet.

  “Sometimes I remember bad things. It happens, not often, but it happens. Its been a while since I froze up completely like that, but I heard the, uh… noise and… it brought back a few painful memories.” His expression darkened as he spoke. Bendy knew about remembering things. He hated it, and he hated the memories that fought their way into his mind. The ones full of blackness and fighting. Henry let out a dry chuckle, pulling Bendy‘s attention back to him. “It’s like a bad dream,” Henry continued, “It’s all you can see for a while, and you think its never going to end. Then you wake up, and its over yeah? It was just a dream. But sometimes…sometimes it’s still hard to shake.”

  Henry stared at the bowtie in silence, still lost in whatever it was that had stopped the usually unstoppable human literally in his tracks.

  Henry hardly ever needed comforting, and Bendy figured he probably didn’t even know how to ask for it. But Bendy thought that if there ever was a time he needed it, it would be now. So Bendy pulled him close and nuzzled him gently, and Henry almost smiled when he reached around to hug him back. It was good enough for Bendy.

  They stayed like that for a while, just the two of them in the quiet of the abandoned studio. After a bit, Henry reluctantly tapped on Bendy’s chest. “You’ve been in this form for quite a while, you should probably get back to your paper and rest.” Equally reluctant to break the moment, but feeling the effects of staying out too long, Bendy nodded and melted away, leaving Henry on the floor with a piece of paper sitting on his chest. Henry held it close and settled into a more comfortable position against the door. Bendy was pleased to hear the familiar calming breaths and steady heartbeat.

  They’d both be okay, Bendy swore. He‘d get Henry out of this mess if it was the _last_ thing he did.


End file.
